This is my first official blog for Mute Noise so I thought I would start it off with an introduction. My name is Jordan and I’m a junior at Columbia College Chicago studying magazine journalism. Music has been a passion of mine for a long time now and I’ve found myself a contributing writer for the UIC Inferno newspaper and the OCC Occurrence.

 The nature of the blog is to give you, the reader, more insight into some of the less well known experimental music both on and off the public radar. I am a big supporter of college radio. After scanning the dial for years it was only once I discovered the college scene that I really hit into the true experimental vibe.

 In Chicago the two best places to hear authentic experimental music is without a doubt on WNUR (Northwestern) and WLUW (College of Dupage). Their DJ’s consistently spin the best upcoming and forgotten music.

 That being said I’d like to tell you about my pick of the week. Every week I’ll tune you in the band/song that seems to really stand out for me that week. My current choice is a band called Crushed Bones. Somewhere between hip hop and jazz there are shades of a more gangster Matisyahu without all the religious overtones. The rhyme’s come out fast but just enough that you can actually make out what is being said. I respect an artist that cares enough about his audience to actually let me them know what he’s saying.

 Their latest LP Why? Really showcases their wide range of styles and gives the audience a taste of a bit of everything. There is a lot of potential in this band if only they could figure out where they were going. It’s as if all the members had decided on a different style for the band to go and instead of agreeing on one they simply played them all.

 On the track Speech Bubbles you can really see their indie roots shine in what turns out to be a really rather relaxing almost atmospheric song. The whole album is great but Speech Bubbles will get you hooked in fast.

 E-mail Jordan at jordanbrandes@mutenoise.com

As a card-carrying indie rock fan, I am good at three things:

1. Memorizing all 20-35 words in every Sufjan Stevens song title

2. Humming Built To Spill guitar solos in the shower (including wa-wa effects)

3. Sneering in pop culture’s general direction.

That’s what makes us who we are as rock fans. We have a never-ending visceral hatred for anything deemed worthy to grace the pimply-faced bubble gum chewing machine that is “TRL.” It’s cookie-cutter music. It has followed the same formula for decades. It doesn’t challenge the listener to think, ponder, question, or even furrow a brow. The steps are as follows. Press ’Play.’ Wiggle hips. Play again. Hang artist’s poster above bed. Recite your first name and artist’s last name over and over again.

So when my girlfriend requested I download Justin Timberlake’s new album for her, my first reaction was to light a pillowcase on fire, attach it to a long stick, and hold her at bay until the priest came by to remove the demons. Unfortunately, most indie-rock fans aren’t good at making fire-sticks on the fly, so I begrudgingly dropped ten hard-earned dollars on “Futuresex/Lovesounds.”

This hadn’t been my first encounter with the beast. Earlier that day I stopped in the Virgin Megastore by my work to pick up the three big (at least to me) releases of the week, which were The Mars Volta, TV On The Radio, and The Black Keys. Of course JT was blasting on the house speakers, and I did my best to ignore it. As I made my way to check out, I noticed something profound. Every single woman in that store was shaking their collective azz to the rhythm. The funniest thing was I don’t think some of them even knew it. I saw a fifty year old woman in the New Age section obliviously droppin it, almost as if it waz hot! I still was not a Justin fan, but I did see the uncontrollable power he has over the female sex, and I must admit….I wanted it.

So I get the album, and now my Girlfriend wants me to play it while she packs for a business trip. Fine, she always listens to whatever here today-gone tomorrow buzz-band I’m pushing that week so it’s the least I can do to repay her. And with that, the sultry, bouncy bass line of “Futuresex/Lovesound” skips out of the speakers. My foot involuntarily thumps to the beat, and in a matter of seconds I’m hooked like a small-mouth bass on Babe Winkelman’s shiniest lure. The obnoxiously everywhere first single “Sexyback” comes next, and it’s as if I’ve never heard it before. I’m right there with every “yeah,” “uh-huh,” and “take it to the chorus.” Soon I’m listening to it on the way to work. Then I’m listening to it at work. Next thing you know I’m squealing like a school girl when it comes on in a bar. What the hell is happening to me?! Who is this person I see in the mirror?! It sure as hell can’t be me.

Well as much as I hate to admit the fact, it is me. My name is Dan, I’m 24 years old, and I am a Justin Timberlake fan. Sure the album is cheesy, sure it’s inconsistent (track 3 is about rubbin’ on “sexy ladies,” and track 4 is about finding your soul mate and getting married.) The lyrics are grade F tripe, (I thought the line “She’s like a model/Except she’s got a little more ass” was ripped from a Longfellow poem, but on further inspection it is not.) There’s even a track with 3-6 Mafia where Justin goes street, and from the sound of it William H. Macy may have been more convincing than JT. But you know what, who cares. It’s fun, and that’s the draw. That’s why it’s popular. As much as we love to chalk it up to stupid people liking stupid things (and maybe I’m just stupid and haven’t realized it,) the reason pop music sells is because you don’t have to think about it. It just makes you feel good.

Does this mean I’m a TRL convert? Not a chance. In fact I may never buy another pop record again. All I know is it’s a hell of a lot more entertaining to bob my head to “Lovestoned” than it is to listen to the Mars Volta execute another spastic musical train wreck while Cedric Bixler screeches like a hyena reciting a “Learn Spanish In 1 Hour” tape. JT is a guilty pleasure, but should any pleasure ever be guilty? These are the questions that keep me awake at night, and I fear I will never find the answer. In the meantime, however, Dan Timberlake has a wonderful ring to it, don’t you think?

New music is important. We thought this would give you a new perspective on it. Our all-star resident talent will keep you in-the-know. If you’d like to contact us, please e-mail brian@mutenoise.com. Thanks!